


verse/chorus, verse/refrain

by alianovna_grant



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, MCU compliant, One Shot Collection, One Shot Song Challenge, Pre-smut, Romance, Songfic, song prompts series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 05:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7965184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alianovna_grant/pseuds/alianovna_grant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Romanogers song prompts series</p><p>i. Everybody Here Wants You - Jeff Buckley (Jazz club singer AU)<br/>ii. Withdraw - Kimbra (Friends with benefits)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everybody Here Wants You

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hi!!! So a few weeks ago I started on this song prompts series on Tumblr and I finally decided to post them here on Ao3 as well. As of now, there's only two but I hope to keep adding more one shots here. I know I have tons of wips already but I really wanted to try to give life to these Romanogers headcanons that were inspired by my favorite songs. I'll be posting both AU and MCU things and maybe some that will work in both scenarios. 
> 
> Basically, all of these are unbeta'd because all of them will definitely be drabbles and such so again I apologize for any mistakes. Thank you for reading and comments and suggestions are highly appreciated!

_“Love can taste like the wine of the ages, oh babe,_  
_And I know they all look so good from a distance_  
_But I tell you I’m the one_  
  
_I know everybody here, well, thinks he needs you_  
_Thinks he needs you  
_ _And I’ll be waiting right here just to show you.”_

[Everybody Here Wants You - Jeff Buckley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nrMwgTc69y4)

**  
**

Steve takes a sip of his Old Fashioned, the cool liquid passing through his dry throat, the bitter bite of the alcohol easing his nerves. He shifts his gaze to the stage for what seemed like the hundredth time since he’d gotten here, _9 o’clock_ , the poster said in Helvetica. He’d been counting down the minutes vigilantly since he got seated an hour ago.

The crowd was buzzing, excited chatter filling the small jazz club from the resounding performance of some up and comer fusion artist he had to admit was pretty good. It was edgy and different and cool and he was smack dab in the middle of it all, the electric energy barraging him from all sides. But he wasn’t here for that. He wasn’t here for the crowd or the drinks or the décor. He was here for _her_ , and he reasons with himself that that wasn’t entirely odd.

The lights go back up, the soft illumination flooding the stage and the eager anticipation grows in the crowded room. It was time for the main act. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, a nervous energy simmering in his blood. He was antsy and maybe a little high strung but he was damn excited, so damn excited he could feel it in his bones because hearing her voice was an experience he’d grown addicted to.

The announcer takes the stage with the band trailing behind and he could see a glimpse of red in the corner. He smiles, bracing himself for the high. _It was finally time._

“Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado we proudly present the main act for tonight, the one and only, Natasha Romanoff.”

She emerges from the side, a smile plastered on her face and the crowd erupts in cheers and hoots as she reaches for the microphone, the red dress she was wearing an echo of a time gone by. He knows every soul in this place was mesmerized by her presence. An undeniable magnetism that made women want to be her and made men want her and keep her for themselves, entranced by an inexplicable force that made her even more alluring. He had a feeling she was someone who couldn’t be kept. He knows he wouldn’t keep her from _soaring_.

She regards the crowd with a cool gaze and begins to scan the faces until her eyes finally reach his table and he swears all of the air in his lungs rushes out of his body when she smiles, not at him, he knew that, but all he could focus on was the green of her eyes and the smirk on her lips and he was gone, already feeling the familiar thrill of seeing her and hearing her voice. 

“So glad to see all of you tonight,” she starts, her gaze wandering again to the rest of the crowd. She looks over to the band, cocking her head to the side, eyes bright and playful, “Shall we?”, she says, the music swelling and filling the room. It takes him a little by surprise despite the fact that he’s seen this performance about a half a dozen times in the last month. He closes his eyes, waiting for the part he loved the most.

 Her voice starts, beautiful and melodic with a huskiness that betrayed her face. She was singing a song of longing and regret and he could feel the emotion rippling within her, channeling something close to loss and pain into an enchanting rendition of a hopeless love for a man she can never have. The song touches something deep inside him, he loses himself each and every time he hears her voice and sees the sadness in her eyes that seems to ebb and flow and as always he thinks of the man who’d wronged her and how that man was such a fool because he would never. _He would never_. She deserved someone who would give her the world and he thinks he might just be willing.

He swears she looks right up at him in that instant, a gleam in her eyes he hasn’t seen before, her lips lifting into a smirk. Her eyes were still trained on him when she smiles, a dazzling, beautiful, genuine thing and he knows that _she_ knows. She knows that he’s sat in the same exact spot for most of her performances to hear her sing and see her smile. She might even know that he closes his eyes every single time and drifts off to a place where yearning for her wasn’t senseless and far-fetched and he doesn’t even feel embarrassed over the fact that maybe, just maybe, she knows that he was probably half in love with her already. Instead he feels relieved, maybe even _hopeful_. She breaks eye contact, he’s sure there’s a flush on her cheeks that wasn’t there before.

The set ends with a rousing round of applause, the crowd roaring her praises. She takes a bow, an endless stream of gratitude on her lips and a promise for an even better show next time until she is whisked away and another woman takes the stage to lesser fanfare. He thinks of catching her performance again next week, same spot as usual and he doesn’t care if that seems desperate or strange. Next time, he’d have enough courage to go to her and talk, start off with something simple and easy. Maybe he’ll even bring flowers.

He has a hunch she’d like roses.


	2. Withdraw

_"Never learned to hold on_   
_I hold too tight and have to let go_   
_But there’s no love, no love,_   
_There’s nothing to take your place_

_Oh, I can’t withdraw your heart from mine_   
_You’re the one thing that sticks right onto my side_   
_No, I can’t withdraw your heart from mine_   
_How’d I get so stuck, so stuck to your side?"_

**Withdraw - Kimbra**

 

Natasha knew it was for the sake of her sanity when she asked Steve to leave at eleven minutes past midnight.

It was the satisfied sigh she unexpectedly let out as she burrowed herself closer to his bulk, relishing the heat that emanated from his body warming places inside her she never thought could be reached, that confirmed her gnawing suspicions - _she was starting to feel things she wasn’t equipped to deal with and the onslaught scared her shitless_.

Her heart reaffirmed the blasphemy, _the traitor_. It kept beating a wild chorus long after the remnants of her last release had settled to a slow buzz in her veins. She still felt its stubborn thrumming, steady and building as she felt the beginnings of his stubble brush against her neck, his nose nuzzling the sensitive spot just below her ear. Something he discovered in his early explorations of her body when everything between them was still so new but undeniably electric.

She doesn’t quite remember how this _thing_ between them started. All she remembers is that she hadn’t wanted anybody as much as she had wanted him and all it took was one kiss to set everything between them ablaze. A kiss that she could still feel in her bones despite the months that had passed. The kiss that sealed her fate.

She could feel his body starting to relax from the high of his own release, the tell-tale signs clueing her in that his descent to a blissed out slumber wasn’t far off -from the way his arms would unconsciously tighten around her to the slow deepening of his breaths, the realization that she was beginning to find these little acts familiar filled her with an inexplicable sense of contentment and dread. She tamps down the unwanted emotions swirling in her chest and replaces it with something familiar - _doubt_. She had enough sense to know that this _wasn’t_ her. She was being stupid. This was being _irresponsible_.  

“You should leave.”

Her voice cuts through the darkness of her room. It cuts through the haze of sleep he’s beginning to succumb to and she didn’t think her heart could beat any faster as her voice carried over the expanse of the room. Her voice sounded foreign to her as it bounced off the rest of the cavernous apartment. It sounded louder than she intended it to be, maybe even a little colder than what was necessary.

She feels him stir, she feels the tentative movements from his side as he slowly emerges from his sleepy stupor. She bites back the urge to turn to him and cling to his heat.

“Hmmm,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice sleep soaked and heavy but the flirtatiousness in his tone was obvious and she catches herself repressing an automatic grin. He presses his lips to the blasted spot below her ear and she can’t help the shiver that runs through her body upon the contact. She couldn’t do this anymore.

She swallows the lump forming in her throat. This was for the best. It was for the both of them.

“I have this early work thing…” she starts, freeing herself from his hold to reach for the bedside lamp. She doesn’t try to dwell on the fact that her breath hitches when his hands squeezes her waist or the kiss he plants between her shoulder blades. She finally manages to turn on the light and it floods the space with an eerie glow. She couldn’t do this while they were shrouded in darkness, where his touches were more potent and she could feel herself yielding to something she wasn’t sure of.

He responds with peppering her back with feather light kisses that has her head spinning. “Come on,” he implores, “I’ll wake you up. Haven’t I told you I have a close to accurate body clock? I’m not bragging or anything but it’s sort of a talent of mine,” trailing his kisses lower and lower. “I don’t even need an alarm,” he quips, and she could feel him smile against her skin. “I’ll even get you those bagels that you like,” trying to make a case for himself.

“You remembered that? I think I only mentioned that one time in passing,” she blurts out, turning her gaze to him fully, clearly astounded. He knew her so well already, small things, and probably big things about her that she couldn’t afford to let him see past. _Why does he have to be so goddamn perceptive?_

“I guess I’ve been blessed with many talents,” he answers with a devilish grin, shy with just an edge of cockiness that sends her reeling.

“Natasha…”

She doesn’t say anything, she just looks at him and she sees the expectation in his eyes, the way they were alight with hope and how she thinks he’s sure he’s finally gotten through to her. In that moment, she knew she had to drive the point harder even if it hurt. She’s saving him from far worse. _She’s saving him from her._

“Actually Steve,” she starts, already feeling the bile rise to her throat at what she was doing to him, at what she was doing to herself. She’s done a lot of shitty things in her life, but this, by far, had her hating herself the most. Fuck her and all her goddamn issues. He deserved someone a lot better.

She summons all the will she had left, donning the siren’s façade she knew so well. The infallible act she’s crafted and mastered all these years to protect herself from this very thing. She smiles, coy and shameless, a smile that feels weird and out of place but she grits her teeth and pushes on .

“I want to be straightforward with you since we decided to do this thing with absolute honesty,” she speaks through a rushed breath. “I sort of had plans to meet with a friend before we ended up meeting tonight and well, I don’t want him to think that I’m a flake, he’s a really nice guy.” She ends with a knowing smile, letting the implications of what she’d just said swim between them. She clutches the sheet closer to her chest because she feels more naked in this instant than all the other times she’s bared her body for him. She felt vulnerable, shame coming in waves.

She registers the slight furrow forming between his brows, confusion taking over his perfect face. She could see him parsing together the information she’s presented before him, taking in the bits and filling in the gaps where it needed to be filled. Given the hour and the weariness of his body, she doesn’t blame him if it takes him a few seconds to finally understand what she’d revealed. The realization that sweeps over his face has her guts in knots, an endless tugging and wrenching she had no ability to stop.

He closes his eyes for a moment, and she refused to assume that the look on his face was something close to hurt. Maybe it was disappointment, she denied herself the desire to read into anything when her judgment wasn’t as reliable. He opens his eyes, blue shining orbs staring back at her and she registers the determination in them. He didn’t want her to see him falter and all she wanted to do was cry. “Oh, sure, don’t worry about it,” he says with a smile. He hops off her bed to get dressed and she forces herself to look away from his glorious body. It felt like she had no right to anymore.

He gathers his clothes that were strewn across the floor, putting them on mechanically- underwear first, jeans, and then his shirt.

“So, you text me, I’ll text you?” she croaks, a hint of nervousness seeping through her words because she couldn’t stand the distance that’s growing between them by the second. She felt even more stupid for reaching out. She didn’t do this, she didn’t need _reassurances_. That’s what she wanted, _right_? For him to _leave_. For him to be _gone_.

He gazes back at her, completely dressed and devastatingly handsome. “Yeah, sure. You text me or I’ll text you,” he says through a grin. He makes his way towards her, something she didn’t expect. He looks at her, a wariness in his features mixed with a certain fondness as he reaches for her face and leans over to press a kiss to her forehead, a soothing balm to her mangled nerves.

“Good night, Natasha. I’ll see you around,” the corner of his lips lifting slightly. He heads for the door and looks back at her finally, as if to say everything was fine when she was certain it wasn’t. He throws her a small wave and then he was gone.

Natasha turns off the light, grabs the comforter and buries herself in the midst of rumpled sheets that still smelled of him. The truth was there was no friend waiting for her, no after hours drinks. There was no other man in her life except for the one she sent packing. She’s done it, she made him leave. But she doesn’t feel the relief that usually came with a crisis that was averted. She feels her heart chipping and cracking and splitting in unfamiliar places because there was one thing she’d come to realize after all of this hurt and apprehension she put herself through. After all she put him through/ A truth as evident as the sun’s rising a few hours from now.

_She loved Steve Rogers._


End file.
